


Sealing The Cracks

by littlemisfit5290



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Post Episode: s11e05 Ghouli
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 21:40:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13556112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemisfit5290/pseuds/littlemisfit5290
Summary: Mulder and Scully talk snow globes and their son. Post-ep for Ghouli.





	Sealing The Cracks

 

He finds it zipped in a plastic bag in the inside pocket of her jacket.   
  
She’d fallen asleep on the couch in her clothes while playing back the surveillance footage. He’d lost track of how many times she’d rewound the tape, pausing on his face then playing to hear his voice.   
  
She’d cried the first few viewings, then smiled, commenting on how his stride matched Mulder’s and asking him if he’d ever had his hair that long. He offered to grow it out and that made her laugh more, cuddle into his side before reaching for the remote again.   
  
When she nodded off he carried her upstairs, helped her out of her jacket and slacks and into his Knicks shirt before tucking her in. Going to hang her coat he heard a distinct clinking, then located the drippy bag with the deconstructed tchotchke.  
  
The watery glitter solution swirled in the bottom corner of the Ziploc, keeping the plastic windmill afloat and bobbing along. The dome had broken into two halves, one of which had a tiny blood smear that hadn’t washed away. The damn thing made her bleed but it only prompted her to clutch it closer, protect it. Tuck it away for safekeeping in the pocket closest to her heart.   
  
Careful not to wake her he exits the room, quietly closing the door behind him before moving down the stairs and to the kitchen table. Setting the weighted bag down, gently so as not to create more shards of glass, he grabs some superglue from the cabinet.  
  
The repair job takes more time than he expects, and the glitter liquid he does salvage doesn’t have the same swirl and sparkle to it as it did when the globe was still on their son’s bookshelf. The windmill though at least stands tall.   
  
He puts the finished product on the fireplace mantle, then takes a seat on the couch. Reaching for the remote it’s his turn to fast forward, freeze frame. He realizes they do share that awkward gait, the same dark eyed brooding charm. The smile to go with though is all Scully. That and the fact their boy’s clearly got game.   
  
Sitting back though, reaching in his pocket for the Sasquatch snow globe, Mulder shakes it up, smiles proudly.  
  
Game for a through and through nerd, anyway. 

“Mulder?”

He turns and sees her at the base of the stairs, robe thrown on and hair askew.

“Go back to bed, Scully. I’m right behind you.”

She expectedly ignores him, pads over barefoot to the couch before joining him on it.

“We keep this up and we’re gonna wear the tape out.”

“It’s okay. I made a copy. Plus the backups we got from the cashier should hold us for a little while.”

He’s speaking but she’s not hearing, reaching instead for the globe he’s holding. She lightly laughs, makes the snow fall onto the squatcher as Mulder resituates and grabs a pillow, lies back against the arm of the couch.

On cue Scully curls in between the back cushion and his side. Rests the snow globe on his broad chest.

“How come I didn’t see this one before?”

“You were fixated on the windmill. And I was fixated on pocketing this thing before the DOD could get their fucking hands near it. Speaking of which..”

Reaching for her right hand he brings it to his lips, kisses the bandaid on her palm.

“It’s just a cut. I was trying to bag the one that broke and-”

“I know. I saw the evidence when I fixed it.” 

“When you what?”

He nods to the mantle and she glances over, sees the globe looking intact, albeit less full than before.

She sniffs back tears before looking back at him watery eyed. Thanking him with her eyes before kissing him on the mouth.

After she deepens it, he shifts up to meet her only to jostle the snowglobe now precariously resting on his right pec.

Before it falls she reaches out, grabs it before setting it down on the table.

“If the Squatch broke I could’ve just fixed it, too, Scully,” he laughs as she goes solemn.

“Hasn’t enough been broken the past few days?” she asks softly. Reaching to hold her face he cradles her cheek in his palm, thumbs a tear off her cheek.

“Nothing that can’t be fixed, Scully. If not today or tomorrow than soon.”

She glances back at the still drying snow globe before resting her head on his chest. He smiles, hands her the Sasquatch, then reaches again for the remote. 


End file.
